


Loyalty is a Funny Thing

by caesiumlight



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lotto (EXO Music Video), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 12:27:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13834281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caesiumlight/pseuds/caesiumlight
Summary: In a world of wealth and power in which Jongin is king, Sehun's just there for Yixing.





	Loyalty is a Funny Thing

He doesn’t go see Yixing the first day, or the second. On the third Minseok comes by and gives him a disappointed look, before informing him that Yixing’s been discharged with his arm in a sling, and a stash of painkillers that he’s very likely to misplace. He tosses Sehun an extra bottle. 

Sehun spends the next half an hour reading and re-reading the label on the bottle, before placing it carefully on his shelf. He goes to the park, and finds Yixing sitting placidly on his usual bench. 

“You’re angry at me.”

“No shit, hyung. Did you forget we were partners?”

“It was a simple negotiation assignment.”

“A simple negotiation assignment that landed your ass in the hospital,” Sehun seethes. “If I had been there, I could have prevented it. You know I could’ve.” 

Yixing sighs, pats the space beside him. Sehun slides in after a moment’s hesitation. He’d expected a frostier reception. But then again, Yixing is Yixing.

“It wasn’t my intention to leave you in the dark.”

“No? Then whose was it? Jongin’s?”

Yixing’s silence is telling. Sehun feels his anger simmer and boil over. “He sends you on all these suicide missions. And you go, without hesitation. Without backup.” _Without me._ “He’ll send you to your death.”

“I’m willing,” Yixing retorts, sharp, and Sehun has to supress the urge to shake him violently. “Jongin took me in when nobody else would. The least I can do is to—”

“Repay him with your life?” Sehun snorts, derisive. “Hyung, you’re stupider than I thought. Our lives don’t matter to him.”

Yixing looks away, deflated, and Sehun celebrates for a second. He wants to take Yixing’s rose-tinted glasses and crush them under the heel of his shoe. But seeing Yixing play with the fabric of his sling turns the mean delight into guilt. 

“Is it bad?”

Yixing shrugs awkwardly with his unbound shoulder, in a manner that conveys that he’s dislocated it frequently enough for it to no longer count. But they’ve bandaged each other up far too many times for Sehun not to notice; past Yixing’s nonchalant exterior, he locates cracked ribs, wounds he’s probably hiding, a sprained wrist maybe. This was serious. Resentment weighs heavily on his frown. 

“You’ve lost your painkillers already, haven’t you.” 

“I hate that that isn’t even a question,” Yixing smiles dryly at him. “And I hate that you’re right.” 

 

\--

 

What people see:

Kim Jongin, king of the underground, and by default, of Seoul. Cool, charismatic, cruelly intelligent. His associates have a hand in every industry worth mentioning. Minseok’s the largest shareholder in some of the most prominent tech companies. A casually given interview, and Junmyeon tips the stock market. Nothing new passes in the streets without Yixing hearing about it first. 

They’re rich. _God, they’re rich_. They do what they want. No one dares look them in the eye. Kyungsoo walks into a casino and the House opens its floodgates. Jongdae throws lavish parties the elites of the city would kill for an invitation. Chanyeol has beautiful girls draped across his arm everywhere he goes. The cops don’t bother them; they report to Baekhyun. It’s a life most dream of living. 

What Sehun sees:

Dark circles around Junmeyon’s eyes as he studies the market for days on end. Jongdae stumbling into the house at three in the morning, hands bloody and eyes dull. Baekhyun’s pinched and exhausted face as he arranges for a clean-up. 

It’s the life they bought into; all this exchanged for wealth, power, protection, and more, and Sehun knows he doesn’t have the right to complain. 

But he sees:

Yixing, coming back from a negotiation gone wrong, injured and in pain. 

Jongin, sitting behind everything; cool, charismatic, cruelly intelligent. 

 

\--

 

At sixteen, Sehun got by with a knife in his hands. He loitered around the quieter streets in the night, and if the opportunity presented itself, he’d take it. Most people acquiesced easily, emptying their pockets, throwing him their watches; there’d be those idiots who tried to run. Didn’t matter, Sehun always outran them. 

He’d felt bad, after, in a diner somewhere spending the contents of their wallets, but the guilt always faded as soon as the pang of hunger made itself known once again. 

He made a mistake trying to rob Yixing; sweet, gentle-looking Yixing, who had barely hesitated before he twisted the knife out of his hands, manoeuvered his arms behind his back, and pushed his face into the ground. He had struggled, but his oppressor had his weight on the back of his neck, and prudence told him to fall still.

“Are you hungry?” came the soft, accented voice above him.

Sehun snarled, shame burning his cheeks; he didn’t need this stranger’s concern or pity. He just wanted to be let free. 

The voice leaned in closer, and Sehun couldn’t suppress the shudder that ran through him. “I asked, are you hungry?”

“Yes,” he had whispered, defeated, and in an instant, the weight was removed from his back. He was helped up. The boy took his hand, and brought him to the nearest restaurant. He had paid for more food than Sehun could eat. Sehun remembers crying. 

“It’s okay,” the boy—Yixing, had said. “Eat, eat up.”

Then Yixing had taken his hand again, and led him to Jongin. 

Jongin, who had to have been his own age, but was already a monarch of the land. He had stared, impassive, as Yixing requested for Sehun to be taken in. 

“I don’t need another stray.”

Sehun wanted to pull back. He wasn’t wanted here, it was obvious, wasn’t wanted anywhere; Yixing’s grip tightened on him. “You’ve not seen him. He’ll be useful.”

“Sure,” Jongin drawled, “but will he be loyal?” 

“Yes,” Sehun had blurted out, and both of them seemed surprised at his ready answer. “Yes,” he repeated for good measure, thinking of the warm hand holding his, and his full belly. 

He’d neglected to mention who he’d be loyal to. And for six years, that hadn’t mattered. 

Now, Sehun comes to the conclusion that serving Jongin no longer fell in line with protecting Yixing. And there’s never been a question as to who he’d choose to save. 

No one would suspect him for going to Jongin’s office. They’re called there for assignments all the time. The gun resting comfortably in his back pocket is by no means an unusual sight. 

He’s shockingly calm. Sehun ponders his mental state; he’s attempting to assassinate one of the most powerful men in Seoul and his hands aren’t even shaking. He’s been in this way too long. He’ll get Yixing after it’s done. They’ll leave, go someplace quiet. Peaceful. 

 

\--

 

Jongin’s behind his desk. He’s not facing the door. _Stupid_ , Sehun thinks. He can end it; now, if he wants to. 

But there’re two fresh cups of tea sitting on the table.

“Genmaicha, your favourite. Just like Yixing’s, hm?” Jongin says, finally swivelling around to face him. “Funny, I was just about to call for you, Sehun.”

Years of training have taught him to control his facial expressions, and they don’t betray him now, even though there’s a definite spike in his pulse. “What for?”

“You remember the Jhang clan?”

The group that Yixing had tried to work a deal with. “Are we still doing business with them?”

“They possess valuable resources, and I’m willing to give them another chance before we write them off.”

Before Exo destroys them, he means. 

Sehun nods stiffly. “And?”

“I’m sending Yixing,” and Sehun has to fight to stop his hand from reaching for the gun. 

“After what happened?” he grits out. 

Jongin looks at him coolly. “He’s our best negotiator. But I’m aware there were some… difficulties, so I’m asking you to accompany him this time.” 

“When?”

“Now.”

Sehun curses inwardly. He’s reminded of just how clever Jongin is; why so many have fallen at his feet. He had to have known, had to have set this up deliberately knowing that Sehun wouldn’t think twice about going after Yixing.

“In any case,” Jongin continues, tipping his head at Sehun, “I see you’ve already come prepared.” He smirks, and Sehun recognizes the unpleasant prickling down his spine as fear. “Finish this, and perhaps we can discuss what you actually came here for.”

 

\--

 

“This is bullshit. You aren’t supposed to even be out here.”

Yixing had taken off his sling; it wouldn’t do to walk into the lion’s den looking weak. “Jongin thinks they’re important. I trust his judgement.”

Sehun scoffs, and they don’t speak for the remainder of the journey. A twenty-eight minute drive, and they pull up to their meeting point. The blocks surrounding the designated building are deserted, as had been earlier arranged.

“We’re going in weaponless.” 

Sehun rolls his eyes, stuffing a knife down his boot. “Sure.” 

Yixing leads the way, and Sehun follows him closely behind. He can see why Jongin would choose Yixing for crucial negotiations. Yixing’s shoulders are open, relaxed; his stride confident, but not too assured. Sehun, on the other hand, walks stiffly, eyes flitting about. He’ll never be comfortable walking into an unknown situation nearly defenceless. 

The place is empty.

“They’re late,” Sehun says. “I don’t like this.”

Yixing looks around. “Neither do I,” he admits, a thread of caution winding his words taut. “Five more minutes.”

There’s a low buzz; Yixing’s phone is ringing. Yixing reaches for his back pocket— 

“Don’t move.”

They’re surrounded in an instant, with men armed to the teeth. Sehun counts thirteen of them. Outnumbered and outgunned; they need to tread carefully. Instinctively, they raise their arms. Yixing’s stance is still relaxed, so Sehun surmises it isn’t time to panic yet. 

“Jhang-ssi,” Yixing greets calmly. “We were bargaining in good faith?” 

A man steps forward, and even though he appears to have the upper hand, he looks more nervous than Yixing. “What do you take me for, an idiot? This is Kim Jongin we’re talking about. This was never about a second chance. Our fates were sealed the moment the first round of negotiations failed.” 

_Ah_. They never believed that Jongin would come to them with a second deal. They thought it would be a set-up. And so they decided to make the first move.

“And yet here we are. Just the two of us, weaponless, while you threaten us with numbers and arms. Did you think pulling a stunt like this would have no consequences?”

The man sneers, steps closer to Yixing and mockingly brings a palm up to caress his cheek. The muscles in Yixing’s back pull tight, the first sign of uneasiness. Sehun wants to break both of Jhang’s arms. “If I’m going down, I’ll drag his dear right-hand man with me.”

There’s a collective air of surprise when Yixing scoffs. “Oh. You’re a fool, Jhang-ssi. I’m but a pawn in Jongin’s game. Easily replaceable.” Sehun frowns at the bitter undercurrent in Yixing’s tone. “You can shoot me right now and he wouldn’t even blink. You’ll get nothing out of this, except utter ruin.”

Jhang snarls, and backhands Yixng _hard_ , causing him to stumble backwards. Sehun catches him, and Yixing’s vice-grip on his bicep is the only thing stopping him from launching himself at Jhang and getting them both peppered with bullets.

“Get them into the van,” Jhang barks, and the men move to comply.

“Wait,” comes a voice outside of their circle, and in unison they all snap their heads around. Sehun catches Yixing’s eye and sees sheer horror. The voice, it sounds far too much like— 

_The fuck is he doing here._

Jhang claps his hands gleefully, like a child. “Look who’s descended from his throne to mingle with the commoners. Kim Jongin, in the flesh! What an honour! What a day to be alive. Or, actually…” Jhang pulls out a handgun and points it straight at Jongin. 

“Jongin,” Yixing cries, strained, “get away, please—” Yixing grunts in pain when one of the men strikes him in the face with the back of a gun. 

Sehun stares at Jongin, who’s looking right at him as he slowly raises his arms. _What are you doing_ , Sehun wants to scream at him. _Why are you here. Leave. You’ll be killed. What are you doing you idiot._

Loyalty is a funny thing.

“Even though you’ve scorned our previous agreement, I’m willing to offer you yet another deal. You can have me, if you let Yixing and Sehun go.”

The laugh Jhang lets out is screeching. His eyes are wild. “Noble, noble! As expected from Kim Jongin, as expected!” It takes him a minute to calm down, and when he speaks again, his voice is level, and the grin on his face has turned cold. “Yes, I think you’ll do.”

Jhang gestures to his men, and they surround Jongin, all the while still having their guns trained on Sehun and Yixing, as if daring them to try something. 

“Jongin, please, please don’t,” Yixing is begging. “ _Please_. We’re not worth it.”

 _You’re wrong_ , he thinks he sees Jongin mouth, just before they shove him into the van and speed off. 

 

\--

 

The moment they disappear, Sehun’s hauling Yixing up. 

“Go, go, let’s go.” Yixing’s shaking, but Sehun sees him muscling his emotions in check. “We need to get the others.”

Yixing’s phone is buzzing again. He puts it on speaker as Sehun revs out of the building.

It’s Baekhyun. He’d had a watch set up for their negotiation, about four blocks away. The police had seen a suspiciously large number of people pile into the van, and drive toward their meeting point. Baekhyun had been informed. He told Jongin dutifully, who had at once surmised the situation and unheedingly went after them. 

“The rest?” Sehun asks, clipped. 

“Were on assignment. Hyung, I’m so sorry, I tried to get him to wait, I—”

“Not your fault, Baekhyun-ah,” Yixing says softly.

“We’ll go after them, as soon as I get more information on their location.” 

Yixing ends the call. Sehun leaves one hand on the wheel, and catches Yixing’s trembling hands with the other. “We’ll get him back. Hyung, I swear on my life. We’ll get Jongin back.”

The manor is bustling when they arrive. Minseok chucks two bulletproof vests at them as soon as they walk in, then frowns fiercely when he sees the impressive bruise blossoming on Yixing’s cheek. 

“I’m fine, hyung. The plan?”

“We’re all going,” Kyungsoo says. His movements are precise as he loads a mag, and straps another one to his vest. Kyungsoo’s always had the best poker face, but Sehun can tell he’s _livid_. “Fuck if I let them get away with this.” 

“The cars are loaded,” Junmyeon announces. 

“Baekhyun, their location?” 

“One of their downtown hotels.”

Chanyeol scoffs. “They think we wouldn’t do anything big in the open.”

“Traffic’s been cleared for us,” Jongdae quips in, pulling on his gloves. “We can go ham.”

“Good,” Yixing says, steady and cold. “Let’s go.”

 

\--

 

They don’t even bother with the element of surprise. Jhang knows they’re coming. With a vengeance. 

Baekhyun sets up in the building opposite as sniper. Chanyeol gets out the biggest artillery piece, fires a fucking shell at the entrance— _overkill_ , Sehun rolls his eyes—and then they’re in. 

They’re not Exo for no reason. Even outnumbered ten to one they clear the floor. Kyungsoo and Minseok don’t miss, and out of the corner of his eye, Sehun sees Yixing cutting men down with frightening efficiency. They read each other easily; Junmyeon moves carefully around corners, and they follow without hesitation when he gives them the clear.

Jongdae spies the room with security monitors and waves them a salute. “I’ll be in your ears if you need me, gentlemen.” 

Up the stairs, three men converge on them. A bullet grazes Junmyeon’s arm and he’s forced to lower his gun; behind him Kyungsoo curses and fires at the first two. Sehun finishes the last one with a throwing knife.

“Well this is just cliché, isn’t it?” Jongdae snarks in the earpiece. “Top floor, that’s where they have him.” 

“Stay alert,” Yixing says, as Junmyeon signals he’s good to go. 

Sehun doesn’t know how many guards they dispose, but they’re all breathing hard when they finally face Jhang, who has a gun resting on Jongin’s temple. He still has a good number of men, but Sehun sees that his hand is wavering, and Jongin knows it. Jongin’s been roughed up; his nose is bleeding, and his shallow breathing indicates bruised ribs, but he’s smiling. 

“My friends,” he says, almost cheekily. 

“Shut up,” Jhang roars. 

_Zip_. And one of the men standing around Jongin falls from Baekhyun’s shot. And then it’s chaos as they rush forward. 

Jhang staggers back, bewildered and helpless. Minseok’s abandoned his gun now, relying on hand-to-hand in close range, snapping weapons out of the men’s hands and knocking them cold. Yixing and Sehun dance through the shield of guards; Yixing’s trying to reach Jongin, and Sehun’s just trying to keep up— 

Out of the corner of his eye, Sehun sees Jhang raise his gun. It’s a losing battle and he appears to have realized it. He aims it at Jongin. 

Yixing throws himself over Jongin. Sehun doesn’t think, he’s in front of them both in an instant, wrapping them under his body.

Loyalty is a funny thing. 

“Ah,” he chokes out, when the shot finds his mark, in the juncture between his neck and left shoulder, uncovered by the vest. Warm wetness seeps down his arm, soaks through his shirt. 

“Sehun!” It’s Jongin. “Sehun, where are you hurt?” He sounds frantic. Sehun doesn’t think he’s ever heard Jongin sound frantic. 

_Zip_. Jhang crumples to the ground. 

_Finally_ , Sehun thinks grumpily, even as his vision swims and Yixing and Jongin’s calls grow fainter.

 

\--

 

The smell of disinfectant hits his nose first. Then the blinding lights. Then the soreness pervading his entire body. Sehun groans. 

“Baby,” Yixing says. His eyes are ringed with worry. He strokes Sehun’s cheek gently. “You’re awake.” 

Sehun scowls, even as warmth fills his body, making the dull ache in his shoulder more bearable. “I told you not to call me that.”

“It took ages for him to stop calling me Sir,” Jongin speaks up, and Sehun blinks in surprise. Jongin’s in the bed next to him. He’s got a bandaged taped over his nose. “You get used to it.”

“Why are you even here,” Sehun says, miffed. 

Yixing sighs. “Kids, please.”

“They broke my nose.”

Sehun sniffs, ire and gratitude and shock and fierce protectiveness mixing within him. “This is your fault. You were an idiot for coming in the first place. How could you even risk your life like that?”

Jongin chuckles, and Sehun kind of wants to strangle him. “You sound just like Yixing hyung. Jhang wouldn’t have killed me. You both on the other hand… I wasn’t willing to bet your lives. You all mean more to me than that.”

 _I see that now_ , Sehun wants to say, but his throat won’t work. He bows his head, humbled and ashamed. “That day,” he begins. “That day I came to your office. I—”

 _Was going to kill you_. He stops, swallows. Jongin will probably throw him out into the streets. He’ll find a way to survive. Probably. “I was going to—”

“Oh hyung, you should have seen how worried he was!” Jongin exclaims to Yixing brightly. “He didn’t want you to go to the negotiation alone. Came personally to request to be sent along. Our Sehun is loyal, isn’t he?”

Yixing’s tender, fond smile nearly breaks his heart. “He is.” 

Sehun bites his lip, trying to prevent the tears from falling. After a moment, Jongin climbs out of his bed and flops into his, causing Sehun to yelp. 

“Move over. Hyung, come here, you too.” 

Yixing shakes his head, but he crawls in after Jongin, and winds an arm around them both. Kisses them on their foreheads, ignoring Jongin’s embarrassed muttering at being treated like a child. Jongin’s fingers find his wrist, and Sehun leans his head to rest on Jongin’s shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Older work, repost.  
> 2\. Dance breaks away.


End file.
